Word for Word All of the ones that say “intro” and “private shows” should say...

wf/w 1

Word for / Word www.wordforword.info ________________________________________________________________________________ Issue 27, Winter 2016

Katie Hibner

John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling

Elizabeth Witte

Jeff Harrison

Anne Gorrick

Matthew Cooperman

W. Scott Howard

Christopher Mulrooney

Michael Broder

Arpine Konyalian Grenier

Tom Hibbard

Marco Giovenale

Adam Golaski

Andrew Topel

Scott Helmes

Francesco Aprile

John M. Bennett

Mike Sikkema

Contributors' Notes

Mashtead

wf/w 2

Katie Hibner ________________________________________________________________________________ Go Flood Yourself Darling, you’ve spent all your hums. You’ve over-flossed and now they’re auctioning off your mincemeat and drying themselves with your childhood blanket. I’ve conditioned my ears with bell-buds, warmed them in your eunuch light, let the double helix eraser rollerblade down our sidewalk— What did you actually say? Our translator is gone; he choked on honeycomb. His smoke-hair will forever plaster our wall (even though I sponged out his face)— I want you to flood yourself on a wholegrain keyboard. Banish the complex sugars.

wf/w 3

Katie Hibner ________________________________________________________________________________ Make-Your-Own-Adonis He was my father’s leftover ziti, heaped up by my curb appeal technician. She had found me a shipwreck, had helped me conceive his powder blue boyhood in the sunken cannon. She plucked the posts off his fences, adjusted his scales into ladles for her disclaimer soup. She sealed him into a landscape of playing cards, promising he’d come out a pufferfish you could rent for parties. I’m already plotting our coagulation, escalating him into fluffy oatmeal that can finally dislodge the torte shoved half-baked down my throat.

wf/w 4

Katie Hibner ________________________________________________________________________________ Turkey Chili Your turkey waxes philosophical on my chaise of hard-earned cash. Your chili powder wants to smoke my throat for our Christmas card. Your tomatoes see that yes I was hardcore-judging your pen wipe. Your kidney beans squirm as I plunge you into locust breath. You onion, you were already swallowed by the bald layers of your imprint— but I kept savoring because when it comes to skinny white men like you I’m a masochist.

wf/w 5

John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling ________________________________________________________________________________ A History of the Pastoral The only difference now is that the trees are covered in ice. One by one the branches seal themselves off, disappearing into their darkened rooms. Soon the foliage around our house is made of mirrors. Perhaps that's what invited sadness into the yard to begin with. You noticed the flowers looking not quite "morning," not quite "yellow." Still I stutter & try to name them. The naturalist's Latin dead weight on my tongue. A frozen bird, a branch snapped in two. Bonjour tristesse, I say to the meadow. But the landscape no longer remembers me.

wf/w 6

John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling ________________________________________________________________________________ Landscaping We’re looking out the kitchen window, and we have this opportunity to go back and undo our errors. But where do we start? We mowed poorly around the trees. We didn’t marry well or have pleasant children. Maybe that time in sixth grade and the dance was coming up. I should have asked someone. The name comes back to me sometimes when I’m trying to fall asleep. Where are you now and how can I get there?

wf/w 7

John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling ________________________________________________________________________________ The Chapter on Regret I tried to phone you, but the snow went on for miles. That was the beginning of winter, a year of thin trees & that odd silence. Soon the trellis is iced over, the entire garden covered in frost. The flowers so perfect they're no longer here. As a small child, I had always imagined unhappiness would be easy. Now the windows on our street darken like a kiss goodnight. No matter what number I dial, you never seem to pick up.

wf/w 8

John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling ________________________________________________________________________________ I’m Kind of Glad I Didn’t Know Then What I Know Now I hate jellyfish, because I just read that they’re immortal. Same thing for a hydra, though I’m not sure exactly what a hydra is. Nothing should be immortal if I can’t be. By “I” I mean all of us, I guess, but the argument never gets that far before I abandon it for slamming a door or punching a wall. Not really slamming a door, but you get what I mean. There are consequences for these things, punching walls, hating jellyfish. There comes a point where ghosts stop being scary and start looking like nostalgia. We used to dress up and scare each other, right? Looking back, it’s a kind of sainthood.

wf/w 9

John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling ________________________________________________________________________________ Landscape with Demolition Equipment At first, I didn't quite understand. How you could call that darkened room nostalgia, as though naming something isn't a kind of violence. Now the door groans on its hinges. The trellis has fallen into disrepair. Around us, the trees have cracked straight through with a strange longing. I suppose you never said tending the annuals would be easy. One by one, I try to forget what the various flora are called. Confession: I don't really enjoy gardening. I've never kept a single flower alive.

wf/w 10

John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling ________________________________________________________________________________ The Chapter on Miracles There’s this commercial we used to laugh at where some guy’s on a riding mower going around his yard and either he’s talking to the camera or there’s a voiceover narrator going down his list of things, things he owns, and then he’s like “please help me” or something like that. It was either a mortgage company or a debt company commercial, and that was the joke, and we laughed, like I said, but the guy was perfect sitting there, a yard spirit, bouncing around helplessly on the riding mower like a baby in a car seat, suddenly innocent.

wf/w 11

Elizabeth Witte ________________________________________________________________________________ In Dog Park

With no dog. The moss that never ever blooms. Or is always. The plant itself. Latin or fancy is the name of its originating thread back to make up what it looks like. Spread as stars. Always be mapping. Claim story and time. Or don’t, but have sense the facts. Why collectibles cost so much. Or how long it has been like this. Has it been worthwhile—It has been worthwhile. Repeating, a way to learn. What is pleasing? pattern. Line, texture, or color. A beeping undercurrent. Is there a way for smell to? Which sense will tell you that you’re—which will tell me? Left all around is this scene. In this scene, the path is to the right; green rolling up to the left. Further, the river named for a mill that no longer does. Trees, the moss is somewhere here waiting for us. And the dog, dogs will come free and running at it.

wf/w 12

Elizabeth Witte ________________________________________________________________________________ We were greeting home. Hello. We said, paying up. We tested the wall strength. Our blood vessels swelled. If that is possible. It must be. The less we ate the more we regurgitated. Quantifiable success measures: our diet grows now like bad news. We grow our regurgitation of a home. The rebuilding project at war with want a bed have a microwave. Don’t even. About power— that ability to dent, impact. We flood the sky to make a texture, or feel good.

wf/w 13

Elizabeth Witte ________________________________________________________________________________ We’re counting This one as much as the last. A symptom of everything, meaning options but you’re gonna die from it. Breathlessness our new urgency. Shine it up because we want it we want it. This city opens bottom-up— it’s a bowl. disaster. There is movement not progression. I want to watch it with you another way of saying I’m watching you. Go on, feel invaded. I forgot to say. Try to remember. That year was threatened. Close your eyes. Watch out. Invader. Invader. That year was a long time ago. It’s happened. Air. When the train goes by, drive fast. Watch, or try not to. Hear it. Not this transportation, but impact. Please, rename all the streets but especially the ones named for what river where? How else to protect ourselves against inaccuracy. We are trying to tell you your future fortune here. Come, let’s crawl back into wood.

wf/w 14

Elizabeth Witte ________________________________________________________________________________ Fictive Metamorphosis of American Frogs into Fishes The legs away in stages imply mobility type A to B. The transition slow to not amphibious any longer. We aren’t either but we bathe occasionally in water. The nonstop tuberous begonia’s a risk for powdery mildew—keep leaves as dry as possible. Do not soak or allow the sun scorch. Let it not stop. Where is a perch, let it be also a path. The street machine digs on the first hot day since winter. The frog story is true from tiny. The fish in the end also—ready for his still life. But the mutation point, the curve of impossible mid-form, interstitial body blue, the arched spine and limbs withering.

wf/w 15

Jeff Harrison ________________________________________________________________________________ Take Them, Take Them taste the dials, color them dead & muddied, you recollected flesh, you unbroken sunflower take them to your nothing-inked country, you goodish person I love your pawnbroker's vest, your greenish silhouette time pales never for trees, mortal, dropping berries, tall as a stair... you are stationed in the undergrowth with imaginary petals where you pace, misused above twilight drowsing quickly, don't drop, with the birds, onto childish plums you've never wanted apples so badly

wf/w 16

Jeff Harrison ________________________________________________________________________________ Lorca Story Lorca organ donor Lorca Morning Horse (shhhhh...) Lorca orders Wormswork world-historical Lorca sport (shhhhh...) factory Lorca Lord Lorca (shhhhh...) Lorca, Bjorn Borg, Bjorn Borg, Lorca Lorca, Oregon (shhhhh...) Doctor Lorca's for more corn liquor Lorca's aurora borealis record (shhhhh...) Lorca, George Orwell, George Orwell, Lorca North Korean Lorca (shhhhh...) worthy Lorca, glorious Lorca! worthy Lorca, glorious Lorca! (yesssss!!!)

wf/w 17

Anne Gorrick ________________________________________________________________________________ There are hidden rules that determine how to cross this city

(based on search terms for Peep/Show)

Sundogs in Istanbul

What IS a skeletron anyway?

Circus skeletons sleep in wheelchairs

There is a fortune tellers’ carnival in Helsinki

Curious transactions are played out in the public realm

Masami Teraoka, what does the writing on the painting mean?

There’s a blackbird theatre in Rosendale

near the Moonville Tunnel

Take a picture of a man sleeping in a truck

All of the ones that say “intro” and “private shows” should say “peepshows”

Navigation found this item in the moonville tunnel

Finland performs on the vintage trapeze

The human skeleton circus presents the Warsaw Venus

Images of midway barkers at circus

shout out the land rights of Scott Helmes

Picture one word. This is visual poetry, the tool of the archeologist

Conjoined carnival corset twins tattoo circus magicians in Rio de Janeiro

Germany 1973

1977 and now

How to compensate for starboard pull

Gaymen selfpump

The good? Let us try this out: modeled in particular and concrete

Diyalektik

Nottingham, Trent

Belgium

Mezmer and the Fiji Mermaid and mummies

Tattooed circus animals on Silliman’s blog

Berlin

Visuelle Poesie

Neon

Frankfurt

A mermaid skeleton found in a carnival barrel

This poetry is clearly unarmed

Circus sword swallower

How exactly was Hitler harshed?

The public sideshow, weird naked swallers, human bridge circus

wf/w 18

A vaudeville flea circus performs a torrent of work by Lori Anderson Moseman

Digital poetry as an extension of the sky

An octopus sucks a woman’s marrow

There’s a guy who eats fire, followed by poems written by snipers or Anne Tardos

Pullback

Also, there are weird dogs in the human cannonball circus

and a man with no arms and legs lighting a cigarette

He’s doing visual poetry exercises in Humble, TX

Optische poesie

An infusoria of diabetic Europeans

The human skeleton is a science fiction

written in:

Dada

pushed wheelchairs

hairy circus posters

The peepshow ownerz are clearly having an outer body experience

Disappointed with life, this circus clenching act

Turkish poems in a carnival movie with no arms no legs

What happens if you get your jaw blown off?

Adelaide infrared

Mattress exercise

Peepshows float in gmail

Highly sensitive persons might be, er… a gay vaudeville artist and animal po director

Frankfurt am

Main America

Where Ellington is similar to Mesmer

Cold front, LL Bean, their computer generated faces

Tel Aviv in the peepshow bible story

the guess edge, the headless woman

vag conjoined twins art speak like Madam Blavatsky

Concrete Turkish poetry like a fat man on a trapeze

She’s gaga over having been born this way

Beard circus, sideshow man, beard face

and his machinic gaze

Examples of the 1960s in Buffalo:

A sleeping airport

Archived spaces

The illustrated book of

sweaters

spatiality

Or is oar, Scalapino

wf/w 19

How I love you actress

Swallow your torrents, and learn how to behave

Under your armor, your fitness or training

There’s a tiny tot pageant swimsuit round

Floatout - their silent, their most intricate steps

Woman wearing spandex strangles other woman. Also drowns

Say goodnight to the Henry Darger night nurse

There will be:

tostadas de ceviche

undressing

text-based artwork

Move out of someone’s shadow

Who can turn 30 poems into a trapeze rat?

Budapest and its velvet curtains

Look, there’s a gorilla clown fighting with a lion

Plunge paddles

International sister bulldog

Pictures of her descendents

He’s a skeleton hump-day pirate

“Hi Anne at peepshowpoetry”

What are you doing on the Frankenstein trapeze?

Why did Kiki Smith make an octopus?

Las palmas, or a mother without arms or legs

Mydaily dactylology of a girl scout, queer wing-ed

There are hidden rules that determine how to cross this city

Embracing the sand as if I were a bird, I’d flee too

wf/w 20

Anne Gorrick ________________________________________________________________________________ The event, “I haven’t told you everything,” is canceled

I know who you are: an Orlando of signs

An industrial interpretation

The events in France became a revolution

Evanescence, evening dresses

Primrose oil that looks like a sun

Fear and faith kill the lyric

In forma pauperis

Kill photography

Kill the classified

Express your eviction

Fields in flames behind a formica factory

Forms of:

surfaces

poetry

communication

birthcontrol

simplicity

The light needs a holiday

Lost in known space, on an island inhabited only by Chihuahuas

Based on what book is backgammon boring?

Is brokenhearted the same as doubleminded?

Broken into beautiful lyrics

Into Japanese softball gloves

Did Christ wear Converse?

A converse Christ

Swim the style heights

In case you didn’t know

In case of emergency

Break glass

Cashmere sock mafia

Methodist undergarments wholesale

The octaves in an old dirt road

The sixth happiness of Kilimanjaro where the gods favor three rivers

Her iris ringed in math terms

She is analytical toward inanimate objects

She says, “I am number four on heart radio”

wf/w 21

We are made out of grammar and pronouns and research

White raisins exercising in language

Winter came like an artist and the sky opened with smiling

The moon’s bloodcount, white abnormalities

Widows in frames

What does my name mean in reserve lookup?

Fishbone dart whimsy

Spanish intertwined and interrupted this remix

We fix ugly pools with our buttocks in alcohol signage

If I were a lyrical boy

If I gave a mouse a cookie

If your last day could be a dream

If only we could sparkle and body, hold on together

If only we were other animals or Victorians

A sentence engaged to grammar

We are inevitably doomed to meet up earlier

Ice cubes are jealous of soldiers

Tights dancers in pieces of Lanvin, Egyptian

Even the shepherds were suspicious

She is fishy with a borrowed positive

Missing in Sugarland, his serenade secondhand

She was made out of ginger and coconut

Maybe there’s a shark in the water with this sheet music

Pneumothorax, myositis

The physics:

In her jaw

In a rope

In a string

In her neck

Identifying spiders

Twins guard the pills against theft

An expendable care

A lush similar however

They ate quail for 40 years

Were they afraid to kiss in the dark?

Are quiet people made out of quarters?

Is your bad hair more mysterious, more predictable, more boring, more intelligent, more

attractive, more dangerous than rolled oats?

Storms whisper like generators

wf/w 22

Even her death was more poetic in his prose

Find other words for “beautiful,” other names for msg

Liability, language, lottery

Groom your sofa, help other animals survive

Zero mosque, dictionary dressup games

Her shoes might be delicious fractal pastries

French candlesticks weighed out like macaroons

What are the facial features in a fairy princess prom?

Cloud rose, tea olive, sumac, ash tree, angelica

Fragrant and hot, Marxism like violets cover the ground

And god said, “let there be a fish and game department. Gaudy christmas sweaters. Gaudete. A

willow”

Will we ever interact with angels?

Will weightlifting stunt your growth?

Latin and moths were her collaborators

Her eyes a rogue wave, all shadows washed out

Damaged by TV and open to the bible

Acidic, saltier, because transportation should be simpler

Because he tries to put some love on

Horoscope hauntings

The history of chocolate and Hindu spiritual stories

Hunger will eat anything

Vinyl valve box cover

I have plans for you to overcome the world

Fear learns to be content and prospers

I hear America singing in my head

Painted houses call lyrics, I hear your hands on their doorknobs

You look wonderful tonight surrounds by space heaters

Our last session closed unexpectedly

You are self-quilting

Take a self-quiz on depression, on the veins and arteries in a cat

Dishwasher, motorcycle helmet, generator: which is the quietest?

Outboard paper shredder

Definitions of dragons and dust, dry goods, bow ties, garden peas

Of dogs, dolls and murder

Full moon metal alchemist throttle saloon

A life like flatbread

Press the regret tab

Francis Bacon like a red river

The repressed memories of elements, diplomatiques senegalaises

A journal of functions, damaged episodes for sale

wf/w 23

A novel, a hurricane, a DVD player

What are her destruction levels? She’s an orchestra of addict

An error occurred in the dictionary forest

Of zoos

Of opinion

Of plasma and men

I am framed by an impala

Cake flour, all purpose catholic camera lens

I can do bad all by myself

I can feel the gospel all over me

Your broken dream bones are the same as air

Can fish drown?

I can feel the internal stitches through dogskin

Invisible moving inside a girl like a past tense

Lucky India-fusion dancesongs, indebted, indescribable

The most expensive house in the world like a popular baby name

Boring in all time domestic

What’s the record for most boxers worn at once?

Spiders in translation

In ink jest code

I throw my hands up in the air and love people on the ground

The unsaid sheet music of a Thessalonian sea and sky

Unsayable, unscrambled trilogy, unsaturated at any speed

Prom dresses, Princess cruises make peace with the dictionary

Carvedilol side effects, walking sticks, wooden signs

Turquoise beads, tusks, Tahitian pearls

The slit-mouthed woman wiki

He carved a trout coffee table complete with vintage flies

The grace of nickel stooges

Throw knives through a country door

Her dress looked like a raven, like a chapel with extra rooms

We think and feel our jokes too much

Alike in ink

We have eyes

We can tackle the window ourselves

We crave Olson

We are thankful for a brief thanksgiving

Think with your heart’s dipstick

Think about the way toys win over toys

Your costumed box, with a Googled dispassion

A wild Alaskan withholding, a sanctuary of spots

wf/w 24

The first stone was a synonym

There is some strangeness to a lyrical you

Somewhere over a community college:

something fishy, awful, borrowed, dark

Something encouraging enters your body

Something ending in -box

Something ending in -Bahamas

Something ending in -clouds

I am edible for a birthday

At endless.com, tragedy lyric-ed around his inception

Unemployed in utero, his stroke was musical

An ultraviolet inscription on her sword

In ultrasound bone refracts or reflects

Lorikeet spectral curve

Movies leak like a Moses tutorial

Guitar chord Mandarin super-wedgie

The heart has a repeating pattern

The end of rhyme, the failure of vowel sounds

Initial consonant sounds, literary devices

Needle bound, the windows between sentences

Amsterdam, Miramar, the décor is harder to hold onto

Blindness curves inward

Mirroreyes, mirror furniture, her neurons at the edge of a lake

Tint, text, trim

Therapy America hides its tvs in the back of our heads

Wear a flat screen around your neck

A towel rack to ward off evil

To whom it may concern capitalization

To wound or pierce with a pointed weapon

Two wounded birds wonder at their own definition

How do you say “to wound” in Latin?

At the infection institute

Coaxing tides, concatenate

The concavity of a function

Points of inflection, engels curves, the second derivative test

Sketching a graph of convexity into her anatomy

Her hair the color of bruised reeds

A soundtrack to his brutalism

Armour wow, addiction claws, an essay on her appetites

Award working, agnostic, agave

Fur, flag burning, free trade, flat tax, foreign aid, fast food

wf/w 25

Here we force anorexics to eat food stamps

The limitation of human trafficking speed limits

Lightbox, concretelibrary, teapotgames

Christ says it all coloring page

Nests, bowls, tombs

Tomb of Jesus cookies filled with dusting powders

She suffers from too much potassium or comfort

“too big uterus for da vinci surgical system”

Unrealscape

She is an unresolved external symbol

Swan Island minotaur, a medusa frolic with shipwreck beads

Entailments, coalgirls, lion wigs

Her eyes make the stars say yes

Her enchantment sagas like newspapers

Watercolor anime mad: in dulce, in iris

The air was art deco, the diet was inuit

You are deductible and complicated and this is going to hurt

Your supernatural fashion

It’s dangerous to go alone: take this

Damage is an antonym for harm

Are mice covered by insurance?

Is alcoholism reversible?

Is her apron considered structural?

Thesaurus: The Movie

Threshold number of pulses

There, I fixed it

Theremin thermaltake

She was slapped by a secret sun

She experienced her body as dust, order, boxes, Africa

Her sight was littered with stars

Sacraments of salt, silvermoon, the signature of shadows

Death is near and he loves you, or he’s cheating on you

Things keep breaking or it’s spring

Poems about armor, about saying goodbye to Singapore

Their crushed kisses were set to music

Lyrics avant at birth

Abdominal muscle but living together, shoulder muscles

An interface pattern, identical twins live in the same house in Virginia

Theaters now in the company of dogs, night gardens, bleak fabrics

wf/w 26

The bonding of nitrogenous bases – boom boom boom

Her blind dresses

Christ’s excess energy forms organic compounds

World money stored like calcium in the body

In the body there are many numbers and letters

Odd systems, farm exhibits

These pretzels are making me thirsty

Theseus and the minotaur, days of lyrics

Whose nervous system constructed the bible?

Sand, static, a woman’s eyes with you maroon

Do you want to attract Arab investors?

Atopic technologies, a dress like a grand staircase

An observation platform, a mattress, a dune, a taxi, a starlit canopy

Parrot appraisals, bullies in a jukebox

Write a haiku about math

Use the words: swim, sweat, sweet, swallow

Similes are normally free

The ocean attaches lyrics to us when we swim

Corpse coral, now, divide yourself into three

Dreams of western wear should warn the curious

Some corals have a cone shaped skeleton

Some will not open

Even to bleach

Bones, batteries, burn notices, bubble guppies

wf/w 27

Anne Gorrick ________________________________________________________________________________ Can you describe this valley of ash? Many things in the world have not been named Perhaps the first obstacle to writing even these random notes is to remember that all disease is more or less a reparative process What we need is a critique of visual culture that is alert to the power of images for good and evil one that, at the same time, has no precise rules about punctuation FIRSTLY, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY: THE CULTURE DOESN'T REALLY EXIST. IT ONLY EXISTS IN MY MIND The Internet has always been a physical space from the first moment I started experimenting with HTML code I witnessed a physical installation Somewhere or other Byron makes use of the French word “longueur” This poem might gyrate around a fireman who burns books The setting might be Verona in the 15th century A description is not available because of this site's robot text She was reading “The Setting of the Pearl: Vienna under Hitler” The setting can also include lighting, social conditions and weather A careful description of all these possible aspects is the driving force that caused the narrator to go insane It’s so easy, just do it into the mist, clean and simple It’s all kinda perfect The perfect shade of green A little bit of love A rugged pattern People who love camp say that non-camp people simply don't understand what's so amazing about camp I have to admit I've wanted a quadcopter and video camera for the last couple of years It’s been on my radar ever since I became aware of a super group formed back in the mid-seventies called Stuff Acids react with zinc, magnesium, or aluminum to form hydrogen (H2(g)) They react with compounds containing CO32 to form carbon dioxide and water After some research in the Christian Classics Ethereal Library you’ll be able to: describe major changes offered in the Beefy Miracle address your confusion about disordered materials, and add to it

wf/w 28

create an open, cooperative practical guide In this lesson you will learn how to envision the setting of a poem by identifying strong sensory words Can you describe the setting of the valley of ashes where George and Myrtle live? A traveler afoot steadily on the road marching from Athens westward crosses the Corinthian Isthmus and continues south What exactly was Opal's daily routine? For example, the setting of a story about vampires could be an old, dark mansion tucked away in a foggy bayou This setting lends an air of suspense If you tell me that you spent the whole weekend cooing and clucking you might explain to me the setting of all that clucking I.The Calyx. II. Circulus. Advance to the East Trace a circle counter-clockwise around the your “Chamber of Art” or place of your working visualizing a shimmering silver What is the setting of the hidden? You may have noticed that I never actually gave an exact time and place for this poem I didn't just forget to do this—I did this Can you describe this valley of ashes? Maturity has a way of softening the edge of an off-and-on confabulation taking place between authors In Blazonry for Beginners minimize (use button at top of screen) this window to return to the game Blazon = to describe a shield There were two reasons I didn't write what that 'something' I found [with un-gloved hands] actually was On 11 November 1838 Darwin wrote in his journal 'The day of days!' He had proposed to his cousin, Emma Wedgwood, and been accepted The poet’s field notes allow readers to peer over their shoulders Welcome to the new “right-wing” of the poetic “avant-garde” Coupled together repeat these words

wf/w 29

three times with vertigo Let’s turn our attention to the most active part of speech: verbs A resident collects the wet and fearful days at the center of a historic natural disaster and creates a fascinating mini-history of the single-serve coffee pod and its unintended environmental impact Let’s study infinitesimal transformations through structure There are many ways to note difficulty The setting of a poem: get to know it flesh it out on paper These are pulsing tense games released with screenshots and conceptual art to go along with the environment they reveal Everything is available There are complex and atypical mycobacterial infections in these settings these arterial transparent images these fishing devices with their cardiac remodeling their deleterious consequences The setting of more appropriate local speed limits and the setting of concrete is a gradual process Simulations reveal the formation of glassy materials like the setting of a bowl of gelatin The setting of these suns (so far) is free entropy was introduced its healing properties

wf/w 30

Matthew Cooperman ________________________________________________________________________________ Canadian Mist It’s not really there at the end of the week Sinister ferry consciousness trying to arrive Are you shimmying no I’m laughing Those hygienic evergreen prompters everywhere I remember everyone naming the mild socialists Who make pleasant talk a drinking game Some draft of the present about past things Is this profound dispersal end of the provinces Men with thin wrists and sport pants a'chirring So much reverie in a rough duck twill It’s GPS intelligence with a thirsty vow A profound undoing by nature and sugar Suggested pineal implant as so many pines Are you shimmying no I’m cutting The poles for the hockey sticks and the Slavs For the sandwiches anything is possible In a collective mood say all day clearly Progress not so much but implied metacivility Blue and gray repetitions of pituitary horizons Wide tracts of boreal forest flashing mountie And pigeon and whiskey and whale Not exactly black velvet but empire and smooth French to the analyst a manner of persuasion It’s not exactly there at the end of the week First Nation revenge and the fall out From the advertisement a snow hare leaping Into the arms of a waiting sea plane

wf/w 31

Matthew Cooperman ________________________________________________________________________________ Mohican Modified

On their way to old Kentucky a small band Of a vanishing tribe of furtive Indians attack A small regiment of haughty British officers Including two comely daughters of one Scottish Colonel Who has been targeted by six bloodthirsty Hurons (Algonquin sadists) on their way to the redoubtable fort. The three implacable men of whom two Are battling to be the last standing Mohican Lead the cold survivors through heavy snow And granite canyons to the now more porous fort. Hark, hear six heavy guns, as two unrequited love stories braid and drone. This is the green threshold of the howling wilderness on the edge of a new modernity. The drafty front room defers specific details But the French and Indian war continues unabated And another historical poem is badly conceived.

wf/w 32

Matthew Cooperman ________________________________________________________________________________ Quantum Diagram Physicists depict using diagrams—time goes up and space goes across, light rays correspond to 45 degree lines, a second of space, a second of time, famously, a few years back, why it’s easy to see a black hole slowly evaporate like lost information in falling matter, water, you get sucked deeper into liquid equations and you find yourself free on the other side, a dying star— 7 Mountain Time, look at the diagram and voila!—a burst of specific energy a few years back, M87 generally it is apparent you could not escape

wf/w 33

W. Scott Howard ________________________________________________________________________________ MERE BOG Atlantic drift moraine traffic morass entanglement mere bog at nil dirt fact forever antennae brainstorming bandwidth untenable fare ear nonevent spent analogue vibrations eclectic garage motes halogen lust-gone paean bracketed or boxed our parentheses dashed ampersanding blusters rare beck dot undotted spiral galaxy origami cranes es oh es dialed top turns futureself replay eight-track convertible ephipanies earful flutes pyre ignited noesis screenplay roundtable scrimmage backward inside eon gist. _____ -- . .-. . -... --- --. .- - .-.. .- -. - .. -.-. -.. .-. .. ..-. - -- --- .-. .- .. -. . - .-. .- ..-. ..-. .. -.-. -- --- .-. .- ... ... . -. - .- -. --. .-.. . -- . -. - -- . .-. . -... --- --. .- - -. .. .-.. -.. .. .-. - ..-. .- -.-. - ..-. --- .-. . ...- . .-. .- -. - . -. -. .- . -... .-. .- .. -. ... - --- .-. -- .. -. --. -... .- -. -.. .-- .. -.. - .... ..- -. - . -. .- -... .-.. . ..-. .- .-. . . .- .-. -. --- -. . ...- . -. - ... .--. . -. - .- -. .- .-.. --- --. ..- . ...- .. -... .-. .- - .. --- -. ... . -.-. .-.. . -.-. - .. -.-. --. .- .-. .- --. . -- --- - . ... .... .- .-.. --- --. . -. .-.. ..- ... - -····- --. --- -. . .--. .- . .- -. -... .-. .- -.-. -.- . - . -.. --- .-. -... --- -..- . -.. --- ..- .-. .--. .- .-. . -. - .... . ... . ... -.. .- ... .... . -.. .- -- .--. . .-. ... .- -. -.. .. -. --. -... .-.. ..- ... - . .-. ... .-. .- .-. . -... . -.-. -.- -.. --- - ..- -. -.. --- - - . -.. ... .--. .. .-. .- .-.. --. .- .-.. .- -..- -.-- --- .-. .. --. .- -- .. -.-. .-. .- -. . ... . ... --- .... . ... -.. .. .- .-.. . -.. - --- .--. - ..- .-. -. ... ..-. ..- - ..- .-. . ... . .-.. ..-. .-. . .--. .-.. .- -.-- . .. --. .... - -····- - .-. .- -.-. -.- -.-. --- -. ...- . .-. - .. -... .-.. . . .--. .... .. .--. .- -. .. . ... . .- .-. ..-. ..- .-.. ..-. .-.. ..- - . ... .--. -.-- .-. . .. --. -. .. - . -.. -. --- . ... .. ... ... -.-. .-. . . -. .--. .-.. .- -.-- .-. --- ..- -. -.. - .- -... .-.. . ... -.-. .-. .. -- -- .- --. . -... .- -.-. -.- .-- .- .-. -.. .. -. ... .. -.. . . --- -. --. .. ... - ·-·-·-

wf/w 34

Christopher Mulrooney ________________________________________________________________________________ discus absent thee from felicity awhile and do or die for the old college what old college you mean that rumor mill of the certified loquacious if there was any scholarship there they got rid of it and you long ago hence your firm grin and wide upon such goddamned felicity

wf/w 35

Christopher Mulrooney ________________________________________________________________________________ across the tracks the model medical school here is Auschwitz evidently they saw it in a book and named it thus in mockery true sign of the notorious party the central tower but mostly the railroad tracks a sense of them coming but assuredly not going ever again

wf/w 36

Christopher Mulrooney ________________________________________________________________________________ ear to ear so finally you’re talking in a regular void against what void of flaming darkness cares not it is thing and thing again piled up very heavily most extinguished most purveyed purloined extinguished and abandoned you’re still there talking with an ineffaceable smile upon your face all told

wf/w 37

Michael Broder ________________________________________________________________________________ Particulars Astrologers seek the details of your birth— date, time, location— to chart your zodiac, where the planets dwelt as heaven wheeled over your crossing. As an alternative, you may provide two dates important by your own estimation; as if to say your destiny is symmetrical: any two points of departure form a triangle with your point of entry. Ignoring your own particulars, what dates do you give? 1. His heart stops while you sleep in another room 2. A drop of blood on a sliver of glass beneath the pathologist’s lens

wf/w 38

Michael Broder ________________________________________________________________________________ Epigrams It is a struggle to keep from swallowing what slides down my throat too soon half chewed, half dissolved, too early taken in my mouth too quickly, avidly, with too little thought too whole to wholly digest. I forget my own place and open the book to where you have placed your mark. There’s stuff in all of these boxes nothing is left for me.

wf/w 39

Arpine Konyalian Grenier ________________________________________________________________________________ Multi-Cultural Song Of feed and flesh and touching but not of feeling oh no how could one feel

penuries greet foreclosure to appropriate

inter-determinacy how one procures the other so as to never feel again as if tao is body and te a taken road go short or long with them tendons fleshed gristle to muscle ta songes

des songes

the moon has stopped lingering do not lean over to stir or pluck its rapture nod wink or nibble at the gelish curtsy tipping sideways the times have lost their caring and poise neither myth nor tale will announce us we need des carrures shorted and swapped skulls and sky torture food for fortune food deftly around spokes that reveal

duplicity is soleil sans couture

second hand language

miteuse here are victims and no perpetrator designs demanding form we roost by

sans culture sans cesse found used or unused we deliver then wither

wf/w 40

seismic activity that strikes and we are or else the wheels of narrative nuanced but also messy will feed greed as we cannot remember what we did not see stray and cyber haired drones familial or social construct reflective not restorative thrashing about

politics is in the way and time with a calming eye for material and labor from which spirit (querulous as ever) may or may not materialize wants to be heard we’ll board a state of mind to doodle it all jiggered doses of adapt and cooperate longitudinal studies and ankles denuding need to taste to stir the future world fair to rigidly amorphous throttles short or long on distraction

des cantinières letting in the now and we.

wf/w 41

Arpine Konyalian Grenier ________________________________________________________________________________ Nazle Douzle Morning Let us replicate without proteins lifted light shapes voices learned behavior splintered phrases are telling and more of never looking back simulates haven they say now we must the visible rendered invisible ripples chords and rhythm of us manqué hints we feel and muster

learning the notes tao and te tao with te tao

nazle douzle blooms quills and stubbles

they burn in that we walked as we pleased among the fallen to decipher decades of garnering amnesia echoes of days out of habit guileless in fact some of us gauged the mechanism of salt dragged out surface for nazle archives looking for a word a star among thicket Euphrates hauls would she still after so many years and deals can she? what my palm releases is a base note seasoned by peerless tears tyranny of guilt imposes

silence delivers should it?

the grammar of mourning insists sound alone cannot discharge as wings alone wouldn’t

wf/w 42

in another world no explanation would’ve been necessary no question would have clarified hearsay would otherwise have garnished love beyond question and syllables beyond color size or model of horizon one salutes light-lifted star debris (what fine breath) howl that foments and headlines grab a twig a branch the seen but untouched remnant of a silk road of rebuffed lute and body perhaps distance to pace hunkered up prized possession mourn with me old lute cut and spill sound bump pluck lead tightness at the bend sand burials and souls cargo unlit caves and slaves dawn is frozen for

daybreak ever thrush.

wf/w 43

Arpine Konyalian Grenier ________________________________________________________________________________ Nazle Douzle Crossing Trails borne by somewhere being elsewhere nudge me contemplatives out of pasture at the river elegantly overtaken by river beyond the shadows patience deems sky bird and blue theory for the night guise as guile trigger I cannot follow this back and forth firmament gone wild is my head waterfall and cliffs landscape I have come into grinding direction testing chance ceded by the job of dreams

the flow ambush to hope down here we’ve got butterflies and terrace the oak tree and change of seasons pomegranate seeds crimsonly seated in Kekule design keen on rapture morning rendering itself emptied of limbs fog and sky immediacy and sheen a whole now astonished wanton glitter the crane of the sky has returned to sky motherland mossed into heartland tracking nocturnal caves I sail by

sail by April by love by flock or herd beckon at chance and other whispered graces below turns and facets reminding me of self below the aesthetic or smart of syllables clothing my captivity what cherished color gender country trigger and front-end positions root below tune and cloud what named us Mihran to Merwan to Merwin justly civic and passionate

wf/w 44

pulse barrier/ carrier remember the old man who vanished in the night talking to himself without looking at you something never yours fragrant walking you buffing you remember turning blind and daybreak as artifact the river and ridges your frequencies shifted how you felt and happened on that ana baba gun day

to have had that is rune ethnography moment to moment living your death

roar into laughter and beam expansion pressure reduction/ equalization

laugh off and away the brackish landscape kingless birdless darkened apple you morning frost greets scintillated hyper odd still magnet red lushly into crimson

measurement apparatus information trust that better noted pitch and overtones perceived nag as when stressed numbers thing data naz to douz provide

meaning matter figure of merit unlike phonology repositioning the ear the self the body your smart dust depends on balancing acts over notes around the spatial

the unspeakables tighten them to stretch/ close to open the work gliding the works just as only justified nasal to vowel.

wf/w 45

Tom Hibbard (translator) ________________________________________________________________________________ Always and Already Autumn already already autumn and it is already winter when the world makes fun of itself when the universe is only a word when oblivion watches us like a guard at the corner of the woods at the corner of the streets at the corner of the dusk and for tomorrow or for another day but who knows which It is so much better or too bad too bad One can never know the exact moment --Philippe Soupualt (1971)

wf/w 46

Tom Hibbard (translator) ________________________________________________________________________________ The Bird of Hell This blackbird in my head Does not allow itself to be tamed It is like a cloud that passes and that is never tricked like a cigarette between fingers and the haze in the eyes However I don’t dare entrust it to anyone and am sad when it disappears It clings to all the smiles resting on stretched out hands and feeds on the sugar of words without even uttering a sound of joy For a long time I have tried not to see it no longer to listen to it crow in the night and when it tears with its claws the fillets of certitude It is the son of insomnia and of melancholic disgust My blackbird my copy hatred is not your bug I give you three days and three nights --Philippe Soupault (1953)

wf/w 47

Tom Hibbard (translator) ________________________________________________________________________________ Dawn The sun that chases the world I am as certain of it as you The sun turns the earth into the world A smile above the night On the ravaged face Of sleepers dreaming of the dawn The great mystery of pleasure This strange swirl of smoke That lifts off of us the sky and earth But who allows one to another Makes one for the other forever O you whom I rescue from omission O you to whom I wished happiness --Paul Eluard (1944)

wf/w 48

Tom Hibbard (translator) ________________________________________________________________________________ The Just Nights With a wind more strong A light less obscure We must find the stopping place Where the night will say “Pass” And we will know that it is true When the water glass fades O earth become tender! O branch where my joy ripens! The mouth of the sky is white That which listens, there, it is you My downfall, my love, my ruin --Rene Char (1949)

wf/w 49

Tom Hibbard (translator) ________________________________________________________________________________ The Hovel The pipe organ had no midwife But the house cracked And my mother was the lodger Where I burned myself whole The doves of distant fires Hurl their crazy flames At the deceitful breast Where a dream tied me up But later my bride broke out On the skin of pure linen Where the too-small solar tent Imprisoned all our delights --Antonin Artaud (1928)

wf/w 50

Tom Hibbard (translator) ________________________________________________________________________________ The Lilacs and the Roses O months of flowering months of transformation May without a cloud and June stabbed I will never forget the lilacs or the roses Or those that springtime guarded in its yielding I will never forget the tragic illusion The procession the cries the throng the sun The cars weighed down by love the gifts from Belgium The air that shudders and the road to the humming of bees The imprudent triumph that surpasses the quarrel The blood that is the foreshadowing of the red kiss And those who go to die standing in the turrets Surrounded by lilacs by a drunken nation I will never forget the gardens of France Similar to the prayer books of departed centuries Or the evening’s troubling riddle of silence The roses all along the well-worn path The refutation of the flowers by the wind of panic By the soldiers who passed on the wing of fear By the delirious bicycles by the ironic cannons By the pitiful dress of the refugees But I do not know why this tornado of images Brings me back always to the same stopping point At Saint-Marthe A general Of black flower arrangements A norman villa at the edge of the forest Everyone keeps quiet The Enemy in the shadow rests Someone has told us that Paris was captured tonight I will never forget the lilacs and the roses And the two loves that we have lost Bouquets of the first day lilacs lilacs of Flanders Softness of the shadow in which death disguises cheeks And you bouquets of the retreat tender roses Color of the distant fire roses of Anjou --Louis Aragon (1941)

wf/w 51

Marco Giovenale ________________________________________________________________________________ language plot against the aliens 0, 27

_0 is = gestures. same _27 to canal, interaction, system's angle, action that involves flesh transcription back to distance, borrowed voice spreading grain. cistern. send the formula carnivorous' nail cut "irrigation", "distance", "lion", "buoy", "ring" //vvv// conjugation [represent] : [erase] disturb language [represent] : [erase] erase fetch the object, a monosyllabic spin /a/ versus /a/ remote phoneme to older membrane [sound =eq.= left-brain] call, cry, loud, fetch: _ _ _ glittering one. _2727 organic cliffs present [O] that's nearly alabaster (e.g., geometry: it involved the consonant r)

wf/w 52

(with forced nonspeaking: "to smaller stare" = 27) th./loop. [O]versus : no buoy. wind’s over. _29 _18 which word? (earli er: agglutinative) august (with simple friction tabs) led on. (fraction) position. many (circular structures appear). floating boat. the turtle way. red & narrow _3 found food; were the roasted wood; here the roasted woods own mass flowers = true + wood + vacuum tablet _4 . struggle . . closure of teeth in production . . to name . . will stem . . profit . _5 –unciation | invented; ; (a,'water, and há, johannes son the (one); with biological pron invented ; 3,000 of uh(3): lú: enemy no, 'remote', class). numerousness; river; because in na: /s/: some ridge corner, action 14: >then

wf/w 53

Marco Giovenale ________________________________________________________________________________ Ravens movements rabbits

ravens movement rabbits rabbits of pheasants philosophers bed turtles turtles set of jewels jugglers or oxen or thicket of owls of tigers tigers on tennis exaltation ring islands huddle chine of of therapy things thrushes of moles murmuration snakes bevy of rats pack listed lions

wf/w 54

pride peacocks peacocks galaxy nuns rings sheldrakes trees stare sparrows state quiver prudence of of of rats raffle of colony of of raffle streak knights battery ships sea of of penguins band of ruffs or sailor penguins ravens of oxen oxen or mathematicians whales zeal zeal of winnings of rage of woodpeckers philosophers rooks rabbits colony information islands of of lions knots of lapwings pigeons piglets tasks swallows swan tigers anthology of dens or snails leopards lepers grove of fowl cluster sea of bank convoy of convoy ostentation of n students drove snails snakes of of stare at sort of of labour of of soldiers soldiers richness of soldiers of trucks pride mosquito mountains of soldiers building farrow spiders vault magpies whales congregation pigs dull oysters tribe of lepers colony of of kangaroos ships of hogs of sneaking salmons moles moles of of of of spring of onlookers nest wedge seagulls seals conies quarrel turtles conies informations bury wolves of swans mice rafter bevy of of sticks set of colony performers turn vicars into into lions onlookers deceit armada mountains of monkeys penguins or or crew or kittens fellowship kittens mosquitoes coven of wrack piglets kittens or pigs of nightingales nouns or tigers of of yoke jugglers locusts platoon building of of oysters slither wagers whales widgeon of seagulls coil drakes ships of party trash trees of of swine cache ubiquity unicorns swine cache ubiquity of vicar things conspiracy of blessing of kitten mosquitoes set of partridges peacocks mathematicians men knights barren sheep whales gaze of of of trip ostentation of bank pitying crowd monkeys tribe stairs starlings of house of hog pits

wf/w 55

pod of mission onlookers owls clutter soldiers soldiers mallards maps woodpeckers desert plovers lapwings dis- worship colony pekinese mob ponder oxen of team of trash of native trip students submarine troops trout of passel of of of snipe snipe or team snakes nest superfluity mutation weasels sort of seagulls flock of blessing lions school rebuttals swans rabble or quail of troupe tourists flotilla knights ladies of monitors of bank tide pigeons knights band of worshippers yeomen ruffs host covey den and moles leaps on jewels chains by lions of ravens turtledoves plague of wrack lions heap lions on off creche of berry penguins knot of archipelago piglets of jays passel of nuns objects or zebra plague of salmon leopards muster monitors then monkeys of of hill jays of quails bevy of ugly woodpeckers submarines rats smack pitying natives swarm clamour walruses congregation of moles moles winning swine herd of submarines pack of oysters sandpiper knights trout tourists trash of salmon bouquet of mice of wolves run of litter jellyfish jewels watch maps performers fowl company of oysters zombie zebra storks of monkeys students sailors lethal cloud rabbits ...

wf/w 56

Adam Golaski

________________________________________________________________________________ Notes 11

wf/w 57

Adam Golaski ________________________________________________________________________________ Notes 20

wf/w 58


wf/w 59


wf/w 60


wf/w 61

Andrew Topel ________________________________________________________________________________ a thought for pete spence

wf/w 62

Andrew Topel ________________________________________________________________________________ e!

wf/w 63

Andrew Topel ________________________________________________________________________________ E... a H

wf/w 64

Andrew Topel ________________________________________________________________________________ on a line

wf/w 65

Andrew Topel ________________________________________________________________________________ structured spontaniety

wf/w 66

Scott Helmes ________________________________________________________________________________ Sonnet 26-II-14

wf/w 67

Scott Helmes ________________________________________________________________________________ Sonnet 26-II-14

wf/w 68

Scott Helmes ________________________________________________________________________________ SF Haiku 33

wf/w 69

Scott Helmes ________________________________________________________________________________ Sonnet on 12-V-15

wf/w 70


wf/w 71

Scott Helmes ________________________________________________________________________________ Sonnet on 15-IX-15

wf/w 72


wf/w 73

Scott Helmes ________________________________________________________________________________ Sonnet on 30-VII-15

wf/w 74

Scott Helmes ________________________________________________________________________________ SF Haiku 30 F

wf/w 75

Scott Helmes ________________________________________________________________________________ Crossed Sonnets on 29-I-15

wf/w 76


wf/w 77

Francesco Aprile ________________________________________________________________________________

wf/w 78


wf/w 79


wf/w 80


wf/w 81


wf/w 82

John M. Bennett

________________________________________________________________________________

wf/w 83

John M. Bennett ________________________________________________________________________________

wf/w 84

John M. Bennett ________________________________________________________________________________

wf/w 85

Mike Sikkema ________________________________________________________________________________

wf/w 86

Mike Sikkema ________________________________________________________________________________

wf/w 87

Contributors’ Notes ________________________________________________________________________________ John M. Bennett has published over 300 books and chapbooks of poetry and other materials. Among the most recent are rOlling COMBers (Potes & Poets Press), Mailer Leaves Ham (Pantograph Press), Loose Watch (Invisible Press), Chac Prostibulario (with Ivan Arguelles; Pavement Saw Press), Historietas Alfabeticas (Luna Bisonte Prods), Public Cube (Luna Bisonte Prods), The Peel (Anabasis Press), Glue (xPress(ed)), Lap Gun Cut (with F. A. Nettelbeck; Luna Bisonte Prods), Instruction Book (Luna Bisonte Prods), la M al (Blue Lion Books), Cantar Del Huff (Luna Bisonte Prods), Sound Dirt (with Jim Leftwich; Luna Bisonte Prods), Backwords (Blue Lion Books), Nos (Redfox Press), D Rain B Loom (with Scott Helmes; xPress(ed)), Changdents (Offerta Speciale), L Entes (Blue Lion Books), Spitting Ddreams (Blue Lion Books), Onda (with Tom Cassidy; Luna Bisonte Prods), 30 Dialogos Sonoros (with Martín Gubbins; Luna Bisonte Prods), Banging The Stone (with Jim Leftwich; Luna Bisonte Prods), Faster Nih (Luna Bisonte Prods), and Rreves (Editions du Silence). He has published, exhibited and performed his word art worldwide in thousands of publications and venues. He was editor and publisher of Lost and Found Times (1975-2005), and is Curator of the Avant Writing Collection at The Ohio State University Libraries. Richard Kostelanetz has called him “the seminal American poet of my generation”. His work, publications, and papers are collected in several major institutions, including Washington University (St. Louis), SUNY Buffalo, The Ohio State U. Michael Broder is the author of This Life Now (A Midsummer Night’s Press, 2014). His work has appeared in BLOOM, Columbia Review, Court Green, and Painted Bride Quarterly, among other journals, as well as in a number of anthologies. He lives in Brooklyn with his husband, the poet Jason Schneiderman, and a number of cats, both feral and domestic, and works as a freelance medical writer.

Matthew Cooperman is the author of, most recently, the text + image collaboration Imago for the Fallen World, with Marius Lehene (Jaded Ibis Press, 2013), as well as Still: of the Earth as the Ark which Does Not Move (Counterpath Press, 2011), DaZE (Salt Publishing Ltd, 2006) and A Sacrificial Zinc (Pleiades/LSU, 2001), winner of the Lena-Miles Wever Todd Prize. Four chapbooks exist, in addition, including Little Spool, winner of the 2014 Pavement Saw Chapbook Prize. A new full-length collection, Spool, is forthcoming in 2016 as the winner of the New Measure Prize, from Free Verse Editions. A founding editor of Quarter After Eight, and co-poetry editor of Colorado Review, Cooperman teaches at Colorado State University. He lives in Fort Collins with his wife, the poet Aby Kaupang, and their two children. John Gallaher and Kristina Marie Darling were born in Portland and Tulsa. Their collaborations appear in OmniVerse, Requited, diode, and elsewhere. They currently live and write in rural Missouri while also taking frequent trips on the bullet train from Paris to Agen. Adam Golaski is the author of Color Plates and Worse Than Myself. He edited The Problem of Boredom in Paradise: Selected Poems by Paul Hannigan. Adam has poetry forthcoming in DIAGRAM and fiction forthcoming in the anthology Terror Tales of the Ocean. Visit Little Stories (www.adamgolaski.blogspot.com) for more. Anne Gorrick is a poet and visual artist. She is the author of: A’s Visuality (BlazeVOX Books, Buffalo, NY, 2015), I-Formation (Book 2) (Shearsman Books, Bristol, UK, 2012), I-Formation (Book 1) (Shearsman, 2010), and Kyotologic (Shearsman, 2008). She has co-edited (with Sam Truitt) In|Filtration: An Anthology of Innovative Poetry from the Hudson River Valley (Station Hill Press, Barrytown, NY, 2016). She has collaborated with artist Cynthia Winika to produce a limited edition artists’ book called “Swans, the ice,” she said with grants through the Women’s Studio Workshop

http://www.adamgolaski.blogspot.com/

wf/w 88

in Rosendale, NY, and the New York Foundation for the Arts. She has also collaborated on large textual and/or visual projects with John Bloomberg-Rissman and Scott Helmes. She curated the reading series, Cadmium Text (www.cadmiumtextseries.blogspot.com) and co-curated (with Lynn Behrendt), the electronic journal Peep/Show at www.peepshowpoetry.blogspot.com . Her visual art can be seen at: www.theropedanceraccompaniesherself.blogspot.com. She lives in West Park, New York. Arpine Konyalian Grenier is an Armenian American from Beirut, Lebanon, author of four collections: St. Gregory’s Daughter; Whores from Samarkand; Part, Part, Euphrates; The Concession Stand: Exaptation at the Margins. Her poetry and translations have appeared in numerous publications including Columbia Poetry Review, The Iowa Review and anthologies by Two Ravens Press and Eyecorner Press (forthcoming). She lives and writes in Los Angeles. Jeff Harrison has publications from Writers Forum, MAG Press, Persistencia Press, White Sky Books, and Furniture Press. He has e-books from BlazeVOX, xPress(ed), Argotist Ebooks, and Chalk Editions. His poetry has appeared in An Introduction to the Prose Poem (Firewheel Editions), The Hay(na)ku Anthology Vol. II (Meritage Press), The Chained Hay(na)ku Project (Meritage Press), Sentence: a Journal of Prose Poetics, Otoliths, Xerography, Moria, Calibanonline, Coconut, Eccolinguistics, unarmed, Big Bridge, Sugar Mule, and elsewhere. Katie Hibner is a confetti canon from Cincinnati, Ohio. Her poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Bone Bouquet, GlitterMOB, Horse Less Review, Smoking Glue Gun, and Yes, Poetry. She interns for Sixth Finch and Big Lucks, and is a freshman at Bennington College for the 2015-2016 school year. W. Scott Howard teaches poetry and poetics in the Department of English at the University of Denver: https://portfolio.du.edu/showard. He is the founding editor of Reconfigurations: A Journal for Poetics & Poetry / Literature & Culture. His poems may be found in afterimage, BlazeVOX journal, Burnside Reader, Denver Poetry Map, Diagram, Eccolinguistics, Ekleksographia, E.Ratio, Many Mountains Moving, word for / word, and Talisman. An e- book, ROPES (with images by Ginger Knowlton) is available from Delete Press (2014). His forthcoming monographs include a collection of poems, Transfigurations, and a volume of essays, Archive and Artifact: Susan Howe’s Whirlwind Poetics. Christopher Mulrooney is the author of toy balloons (Another New Calligraphy), alarm (Shirt Pocket Press), supergrooviness (Lost Angelene), and Buson orders leggings (Dink Press). Christopher Mulrooney passed away in July, 2015. Michael Sikkema was raised in rural Michigan in a working class family. He is the author of three full length books of poems, Futuring, January Found (Blazevox), and May Apple Deep (Trembling Pillow Press). He is also the author of several chapbooks, most recently Time Missing from Grey Book Press. Elizabeth Witte is a writer and editor living in western Massachusetts. Her work has been published in a variety of journals and her chapbook Dry Eye is available form Dancing Girl Press. She is Associate Editor of The Common, and received her MFA from the Bennington Writing Seminars.

http://www.peepshowpoetry.blogspot.com/

http://www.theropedanceraccompaniesherself.blogspot.com/

wf/w 89

Masthead ________________________________________________________________________________ Word For/ Word is seeking poetry, prose, poetics, criticism, reviews, and visuals for upcoming issues. We read submissions year-round. Issue #28 is scheduled for August 2016. Please direct queries and submissions to: Word For/ Word c/o Jonathan Minton 546 Center Avenue Weston, WV 26452 Submissions should be a reasonable length (i.e., 3 to 6 poems, or prose between 50 and 2000 words) and include a biographical note and publication history (or at least a friendly introduction), plus an SASE with appropriate postage for a reply. A brief statement regarding the process, praxis or parole of the submitted work is encouraged, but not required. Please allow one to three months for a response. We will consider simultaneous submissions, but please let us know if any portion of it is accepted elsewhere. We do not consider previously published work. Email queries and submissions may be sent to: [email protected]. Email submissions should be attached as a single .doc, .rtf, .pdf or .txt file. Visuals should be attached individually as .jpg, .png, .gif, or .bmp files. Please include the word "submission" in the subject line of your email. Word For/ Word acquires exclusive first-time printing rights (online or otherwise) for all published works, which are also archived online and may be featured in special print editions of Word For/Word. All rights revert to the authors after publication in Word For/ Word; however, we ask that we be acknowledged if the work is republished elsewhere. Word For/ Word is open to all types of poetry, prose and visual art, but prefers innovative and post-avant work with an astute awareness of the materials, rhythms, trajectories and emerging forms of the contemporary. Word For/ Word is published biannually. Jonathan Minton, Editor ISSN 2159-8061

Word for Word All of the ones that say “intro” and “private shows” should say...

Documents

Transcript of Word for Word All of the ones that say “intro” and “private shows” should say...